And Tell Me You Love Me
I Was Just a Pawn
- Alex's Point of View-
A sigh escaped my lips as I opened up my mailbox only to see a pile of bills sitting there waiting to be paid. I was lucky I had money to buy food anymore, what am I suppose to do for these?
I picked them up and shuffled through them before going into my house and slamming the half broken screen door behind me, cringing as I heard the glass shake like it was about to fall out.
Life was pretty rough. I had no job, no money, no will to do much of anything. I was stuck playing guitar at the park every weekday afternoon, only earning about two dollars and maybe a bent paper clip. Things just hadn't been all that bright since my parents had decided to move back to England, leaving me to waste away here in Baltimore.
I threw the bills down on the coffee table and sat down on the couch, listening to the springs groan under my weight. The only reason why I had a roof over my head now was because my parents had paid off my childhood home and left it to me before moving back to the country where I was born.
My face hid in my hands as I glanced up at the white envelopes again. I needed a job, or just some random miracle that could at least bring me a fair amount of money to survive and get done what I needed. The first option sounded more reasonable, but I was hoping a little bit for the second one to happen.
I stood up and grabbed my guitar case and the small cup that had the football team, the Ravens, on the side of it.
It was about time that I made my way across town to preform my daily "two dollars and a paper clip" concert for whoever cared to listen. When I had first started back in high school, there was an elderly lady who showed up every single day just to see me play. I thought it was amazing, but one day she didn't show up and I had found out that she had died in the local newspaper.
Since her, there have been quite a few others and then there are a couple who listen for a while and move on with their lives. I wish I could do that, but instead I'm stuck here, using a worthless talent just to pay bills.
Was I ever going to get the chance to choose something different?
~~~
My concert was drawing to a close as the street lamps began to light up and the sun was setting in the distance, leaving the park in a friendly orange glow. Today's show had been twice as long for two reasons. One, I really needed the money, and two, I was really stressed out and this was the only way I could release it in a 'healthy' way.
As I finished the last song and picked up the cup to count today's earnings, someone approached me with a small smile in his face.
I admired the man for a moment. He was pretty attractive, if you had to ask me. Dark spiky hair, alluring chocolate brown eyes, and a small amount of stubble that suited him perfectly. Yeah, he was more than attractive.
"That was a great show, though I'm pretty sure that I missed half of it," he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Thanks. I try my best," I said putting the guitar back in its case an glancing down at the cup filled with change with a worried expression, not knowing if it was enough to last me.
"I didn't introduce myself," he said holding out his hand and saying, "I'm Jack. Jack Barakat."
Barakat? Where had I heard that name before? It sounded fairly familiar and that bothered me because I just couldn't figure out where I had heard it.
"Alex Gaskarth," I said shaking his hand, still trying to find where I had heard his last name before.
"Well, Alex, you have quite a talent and a very nice face to go along with it," he said with a wink and I felt my face heat up.
Was this stranger flirting with me? I wasn't anything special so there really was no point in him doing it.
"T-thank you," I stuttered and he smiled a Cheshire Cat grin at me.
"You should call me sometime," he said, pulling out a twenty and dropping it into the cup without another word before walking away.
I pulled his money out in shock an saw his number scrawled across the top of the bill in red ink.
That's when it hit me like a freight train, the Barakats were the richest family in Baltimore.
I had a feeling that I was going to like this guy.
A sigh escaped my lips as I opened up my mailbox only to see a pile of bills sitting there waiting to be paid. I was lucky I had money to buy food anymore, what am I suppose to do for these?
I picked them up and shuffled through them before going into my house and slamming the half broken screen door behind me, cringing as I heard the glass shake like it was about to fall out.
Life was pretty rough. I had no job, no money, no will to do much of anything. I was stuck playing guitar at the park every weekday afternoon, only earning about two dollars and maybe a bent paper clip. Things just hadn't been all that bright since my parents had decided to move back to England, leaving me to waste away here in Baltimore.
I threw the bills down on the coffee table and sat down on the couch, listening to the springs groan under my weight. The only reason why I had a roof over my head now was because my parents had paid off my childhood home and left it to me before moving back to the country where I was born.
My face hid in my hands as I glanced up at the white envelopes again. I needed a job, or just some random miracle that could at least bring me a fair amount of money to survive and get done what I needed. The first option sounded more reasonable, but I was hoping a little bit for the second one to happen.
I stood up and grabbed my guitar case and the small cup that had the football team, the Ravens, on the side of it.
It was about time that I made my way across town to preform my daily "two dollars and a paper clip" concert for whoever cared to listen. When I had first started back in high school, there was an elderly lady who showed up every single day just to see me play. I thought it was amazing, but one day she didn't show up and I had found out that she had died in the local newspaper.
Since her, there have been quite a few others and then there are a couple who listen for a while and move on with their lives. I wish I could do that, but instead I'm stuck here, using a worthless talent just to pay bills.
Was I ever going to get the chance to choose something different?
~~~
My concert was drawing to a close as the street lamps began to light up and the sun was setting in the distance, leaving the park in a friendly orange glow. Today's show had been twice as long for two reasons. One, I really needed the money, and two, I was really stressed out and this was the only way I could release it in a 'healthy' way.
As I finished the last song and picked up the cup to count today's earnings, someone approached me with a small smile in his face.
I admired the man for a moment. He was pretty attractive, if you had to ask me. Dark spiky hair, alluring chocolate brown eyes, and a small amount of stubble that suited him perfectly. Yeah, he was more than attractive.
"That was a great show, though I'm pretty sure that I missed half of it," he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Thanks. I try my best," I said putting the guitar back in its case an glancing down at the cup filled with change with a worried expression, not knowing if it was enough to last me.
"I didn't introduce myself," he said holding out his hand and saying, "I'm Jack. Jack Barakat."
Barakat? Where had I heard that name before? It sounded fairly familiar and that bothered me because I just couldn't figure out where I had heard it.
"Alex Gaskarth," I said shaking his hand, still trying to find where I had heard his last name before.
"Well, Alex, you have quite a talent and a very nice face to go along with it," he said with a wink and I felt my face heat up.
Was this stranger flirting with me? I wasn't anything special so there really was no point in him doing it.
"T-thank you," I stuttered and he smiled a Cheshire Cat grin at me.
"You should call me sometime," he said, pulling out a twenty and dropping it into the cup without another word before walking away.
I pulled his money out in shock an saw his number scrawled across the top of the bill in red ink.
That's when it hit me like a freight train, the Barakats were the richest family in Baltimore.
I had a feeling that I was going to like this guy.
Notes
Title Credit: Get Down On Your Knees and Tell Me You Love Me by All Time LowEmptySighsAndWine
This is legit one of the best Jalex stories ever written. You two collabed so well together, it was so beautifully written and the plot was perfect. I really hope you (both or separate) two make more stories because this was an amazing creation ♥♥
3/31/14